Gold and Blood Sink the Same In the Waters of War
by chokesnicely
Summary: The horrors of war are never easy to deal with. Grief is a different experience for everyone. Some may receive closure and move on. Others have no way to fill in the holes left in their being, whether they are human…or shipgirl. As time passes, it is up to the individual on how they manage whatever it is they are dealing with. How will this shipgirl deal with hers?
1. Prologue: What is the Price of War?

_**"The winds will blow**_

_**To where the stones grow**_

_**They call for you to come near**_

_**Approach them without fear**_

_**Set forth a feast with the living**_

_**Remember those no longer breathing**_

_**And those without man's soul**_

_**So, they may find themselves whole"**_

A pale skinned woman, clad in a dress of glimmering white, stood on top of the endless, jet-black ocean. Light emanating from her to contrast the abyss around her. Ripples forming at her feet as waves of dark, inky waters formed then crashed onto her unmoving form. Her head, bowed and seemingly staring at her feet. Her hands, clasped to her chest as if in prayer. Her legs, standing strong amidst the cacophony around her.

-:" ...lp…e…he…help…": -

***BOOM***

A flash of light amidst the darkness changed the scenery.

The ocean of black was now a sea of red, human arms and hands jutting out and reaching for an unknown sky. At the middle of the gruesome sight was the woman. Her dress, a dull grey. Her legs, bent and broken, cut and bloodied. Her hands, once clasped now held shimmering gold spattered with red in open palms to her chest. Her head, blasted open on one side with jagged bone jutting out of the edges, a hollow eye socket stared at the nothingness ahead of her.

Then, the remnants of her mouth moved as if to speak

"…"

A soundless effort. Followed by a cacophony of other voices and noises seemingly speaking but in a different language.

_-:" ...lp…i…hi…hilfe…": -_

"…"

The noise grew louder every passing moment. More sounds added in. The explosion of shells. The whirr of propellers. The clang of metals. The screams of a million voices.

_-:" ...hiiiilfe…hiiiiilfe…mir": -_

_"...the…"_

A word finally formed from the lips the woman.

_"…for gold…"_

_-:" ...bitte…hiiiiilfe": _

_"…the pain…"_

_-:" ...biiitte…": -_

_"…for gold…the pain…for gold…GOLD"_

_-:" ...hiiiilfe…bi…": -_

_"…the pain…"_

_-:" ...help…": -_

_"…THE PAIN…"_

_-:" ...heeeeeeeeelp…": -_

_"…the stones…"_

_-:" ...heeeeeeeeelp…": -_

_"…go…to…the stones…"_

**_-:" ...HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEEEEE…": -_**

**_"TO THE STONES!"_**

She awoke with a startled breath. Cold sweat drenched her as she sat up with great effort. The dreams never stopped, but neither were they getting easier to deal with. She brought her knees up to her chest, embraced them as if they were the only lifeline she had left, and sobbed silently.

"I'm sorry" she choked out as tears stained her cheeks and dripped onto her legs.

She looked to her bedside table where a few bottles lay empty on their sides. Next to them was an open journal with notes and markings, a few sketches and liquid stains littered the pages. On top a stack of papers, a cube glowed an ominous cerulean blue light dimly, illuminating its immediate surroundings.

"Calm down, Belfast. Just another nightmare." she whispered to herself as her sobs subsided. Her breathing had calmed but her hands would not leave her lower body until a few minutes later.

The woman swung her legs to the side of the bed and sat on the edge for a few seconds.

"…Edinburgh, my sister, I'm sorry…Scharnhorst…I hope both of you can forgive me"


	2. Chapter 1: Daily Life of a Royal Maid

The day started out with the usual duties; waking up her majesty from her slumber, attending to her breakfast and morning bath, waiting on the guests that arrived before lunch time, cleaning the lobby, and checking up on the other maids and their daily tasks. This was just one of her many routines as the head maid.

She made sure everything on her mental checklist had been ticked off and cleared. The day was a normal one by her standards. A smile was plastered on her pale face. It was not ingenuine, sometimes even a comforting sight to the many other shipgirls and sailors she had shared the base with. But at times, it seemed like it was the only expression her face ever held.

Sometime past noon, she was already at the outdoor garden area's special gazebo, beginning to clean up the used tea pot and plate which held the day's lunch meal. She was wearing her head maid's uniform. A white ruffled headpiece was tucked behind a small braided tuft of her immaculately silver hair. Her navy-blue outfit was adorned with white accents and did little to hold back her generous bosom. The choker she had around her neck had what appeared to be a few links of iron chains. White sleeved gloves and leggings covered her limbs as she deftly moved around to attend to her duties.

"1240 hours, it is nearly time to fix up and head out for the afternoon tasks. Would your majesty like to have any other preparations for the conference room before the meetings begin?" she asked in a soft, almost angelic tone.

The shipgirl in question put a delicate finger to her lips and thought about it for a few moments, humming while doing so.

"Hmm, it would be nice to have the room prepared first. Please set the room to a temperature which would be comfortable for our guests. I do believe they would prefer a warmer room seeing as the Mediterranean breeze made me feel quite stuffy when I visited that side of the world." responded her charge as the woman pondered on other items to accommodate her guests.

"Yes, your majesty, it shall be done. I would like to recommend we add lasagne to the menu as well for the dinner preparations. Sheffield has returned with the procurement team from the wine cellars with some of the Italian wineries' finest." the prim-and-proper maid responded.

"Oh, that would be lovely, would it not? I still look forward to what the head chef had created. Its aroma was quite delightful when I passed by the kitchen. Speaking of which, I should accompany you and do an inspection of the kitchen and the staff. Do choose a good drink to go along with the dish, be it wine or any other liquor. I do fancy a wonderful Friday night before the weekend begins." the woman spoke as she picked up her porcelain tea cup, downing the last of its contents before setting it down and standing up.

With a gloved hand, the lady brushed the frilled end of the short dress she wore which barely reached below her hips. She had a pair of white, thigh-high socks, accentuated by blue ribbons near the top. Her long, curled, blonde hair draped around her shoulder. To finish the outfit, she wore a stylized gold and scarlet crown similar to the royal jewels of Britain.

HMS Queen Elizabeth was a petite woman with delicate skin and features. She may not have been the tallest shipgirl in Scapa Flow, but she was the most revered, but not only by name. Even the sailors who worked alongside the shipgirls respected the lady and treated her as they would any high-ranking officer. At some point, at the behest of King George VI, she was given the rank of a fleet admiral for all her tactical and actual contributions to the wars.

Her accolades in battle were not a long list of ships she had sunk or battles she had fought, but she held the honour of being the Grand Fleet's Flagship for the Great War and even participating as the head naval strategist during the Second World War. She was not the most decorated, but she was the most knowledgeable amongst those who remained after the war.

"Belfast, see to it my throne is not imposing to our guests. I would rather be seated on a simple chair as not to give the wrong impression to those who have come to settle their wrong doings. Also tell Admiral McLenny to not wear that dreadful full regalia of his, we're not here to intimidate those who wish to be diplomatic" she spoke once more before walking away from the table.

"Yes, your majesty, we'll see to it immediately" Belfast said as she bowed her head low as per her usual routine when dismissed by the Queen. She then walked behind her majesty as they walked away from the gazebo and towards the office building of the port.

_-:" ...heeeeeeeeelp…": -_

A whisper passed through her ears as they walked. Paying no heed to it, she kept her composure and continued forward.

_"…what is the price of gold…"_

The question lingered in the back of her mind for a few moments until she felt something touch the base of her neck and trace its way down her spine. If this was the first time, it would have greatly bothered her. By now, after experiencing it for years, it just seemed to be a routine integrated into her daily life. But that didn't mean it was not bothersome. She mentally shrugged and kept smiling her ever unwavering smile.

The wind blew through them; the freshly grown grass rustling and giving a lively feeling to the now eerily silent bay of Scapa Flow. What was once a bustling and lively naval base now only holds some of the remnants of the Royal Navy, a few handfuls of shipgirls and around two hundred sailors and labourers as they retired from the years of war which they had experienced. They passed by some of the sailors who went about their business every now and then, some stopping to greet their majesty with a bow, or a curtsy from the passing shipgirls.

"Belfast, do you ever wish to frolic with them? It's not a sin to want to spend your time gallivanting around and finding amusement alongside the other shipgirls, or maybe even a sailor or two." Queen Elizabeth spoke as they walked onwards.

Belfast could only smile at the thought of her leader's suggestion. "Your majesty, this is my amusement. And are you not a shipgirl yourself?" she replied gently as she closed her eyes and smiled even if she knew the dainty woman before her would not turn to look.

"Oh, hush you. One of these days, when we're not so occupied with these tasks, I will order you to have fun, no matter what." Queen Elizabeth huffed as she crossed her arms and put on a mock pout.

Belfast paused for a second, her smile fading ever so slightly. She quickly recomposed herself as she replied. "Then how does tomorrow sound?"

Queen Elizabeth stopped and turned towards the maid; a wide, toothy grin plastered on her face. "Excellent, you have the entire weekend off. I will contact Portsmouth and visit George and see how she's handling the operations on their port. It has been a while since I've been to my hometown as well" she said, clearly reminiscing of the old times and even back to when her hull was laid down.

"Thank you, your majesty" Belfast bowed as they continued their walk.

As they rounded a corner, they met a woman who wore a different maid's outfit, branding her as one of the Town-class cruisers who served as the unofficial maids of the naval base and more importantly the de facto leader of the Royal Navy shipgirls and as such called themselves the Royal Maids. Her platinum blonde hair had bangs up front which were long enough to cover her eyes while the remaining hair was braided into buns on either side of her hair and tucked beneath her maid's crown. Her conservatively Victorian maid outfit flowed down past her knees where they met her silver-toned boots, white thigh high stockings held by garter belts covering most of the exposed skin. Her golden pupils merely stared at the pair before she bowed and spoke.

"Excuse me. Greetings your majesty" she said softly before turning to Belfast. "Head maid, I have finished my tasks for the day, is there any other duty which I may assist in?"

"Hello Sheffield, thank you for procuring the wine for the festivities tonight. Please prepare the conference room with these instructions. Ask for assistance from Glasgow or Newcastle, whichever of them is available." Belfast spoke as she handed Sheffield the note of directions for the preparations.

"As you wish. Your majesty." she said as she turned and bowed to Queen Elizabeth and proceeded to walk towards the conference room.

Queen Elizabeth smiled, nodded to the maid, and waved her away. Before Sheffield could turn the corner, she called out one last order. "And don't forget to reward yourselves after the preparations."

The maid turned around and bowed one more time before disappearing down the corner of the corridor.

"I truly do think you ladies overwork yourselves too much. You may give yourselves time for reprieve along with the festivities tonight. I'm sure the port's sailors and staff can handle it themselves." Queen Elizabeth asked as she looked up towards Belfast.

"As the Royal Maids, we only wish to provide the best possible service to everyone who needs it. Rest can come when everyone else has begun with theirs." the head maid answered as she flashed her usual smile.

Queen Elizabeth just sighed and shook her head, unable to find words to respond to one of her most loyal servants. "If you see it as such. I know I cannot change your mind once you've set yourself to it. Now come along, I will accompany you to the kitchen, I wish to check on all the ingredients of our feast tonight before the preparations commence." the diminutive leader spoke before leading the way once again.

Belfast could only giggle before following her Queen, knowing full well she only wished to smell the spices of the head chef's newly invented dish. "As you wish, your majesty."

A scratching feeling crept its way up her arms as they continued. Turning her head down ever so slightly to look at her arm, small red marks appeared then disappeared just as quickly from her elbow up to her shoulder; marks as if some hands were grasping ever higher and higher, digging their nails into her pale skin. If she was not holding onto the tray of used utensils, she would have immediately covered it up; but seeing as Queen Elizabeth was focused on looking ahead and since no other people were around, she let it pass.

'It'll go away soon' she mentally noted.

And just as she finished the thought, it was over. The marks had stopped and the feeling disappeared. But for how long, she never really knew. Until then, she just needed to keep doing what she knew how to do best. Keep calm and serve.

The meeting with the Sardegna Empire had gone well and the discussion of the peace pact had only been strengthened when they had offered themselves to the other navies as spoils of war. The Royal Navy leader had been hesitant at first, due to possible growing tensions of providing more power to unstable military forces, but at the demand of the Sardegnans, especially Littorio who seemed to not want to take no for an answer, the committee eventually caved in. These terms were agreed to be presented and discussed at the official conference with the other nations in Paris.

After a few hours, the dinner with their guests had begun. The dining hall held around twenty shipgirls and more than a hundred off-duty sailors and officers as they all prepared to be served with their orders for tonight. After all, it was not every night they experienced a 4-course meal; a welcome departure from the military rations they were used to.

"Mhmm" Queen Elizabeth cleared her throat as she spoke to the microphone.

"Welcome one and all, the Royal Navy and our guests from the Sardegna Empire. Today is a day of great victory for both of our factions. The peace pact which we have had for these past few months has only been bolstered by our diplomatic discussions. And today, we are graced by the humble presence of those we once called foes who only wish to undo the wrongdoings brought about by unjust and wicked leaders."

For a shipgirl of such a small physical stature, Queen Elizabeth had quite the impact. All eyes were now focused on her as she held the attendants' attention with her overwhelming presence. In between her sentences, you could hear only the static crackling of the speakers. After all, no one in the Royal Navy dared to go against their de facto leader nor try to face her in physical combat even if her size were anything to base judgment on.

"We dine here today as allies, no longer enemies. Tonight, we bury the hatchet, as they say. To those of you who harbour anger towards these foreign women who have humbled themselves enough to wish to do only right and provide proper justice can take it up with me first before even attempting to harm them, lest you force my hand to scuttle you on sight. Now, to move away from the dark past, we shall celebrate with this feast which shall cater to all of our cultures."

The Royal Navy leader then raised her fluted glass, half filled with champagne. "To the end of war and the end of fighting. To a brighter future, not just for us, but for everyone in this world we live in."

Cheers of agreement erupted from those gathered, the Royal Navy Ship Queen's charisma and words inspiring a new hope in all of the hearts of those who had gathered. They may have been shipgirls, but the words resonated with the wisdom cubes which acted as their cores, almost akin to human hearts.

The festivities went off without a hitch. The maids catered to all the needs of all the shipgirls, even those from Sardegna. They made sure no one felt left out and everyone was having fun. At the head of the operation, Belfast overlooked it all. The head maid adding in the extra effort of approaching any shipgirl who did not look like they were enjoying their time. She made sure they were well attended to, be it their requests for more food or liquor, or subtly pushing shipgirls to talk to others as she did with the Sardegnans who were reserved with interacting with former foes.

Everything went so well; she could afford to sit down with the other maids to enjoy their dinner as soon as all the guests had left. As the other maids sat at their round table, Belfast came out with a push cart filled to the brim with food. The maids were hesitant at first to let their head maid be the one to serve them. But even though they voiced out they would rather serve themselves, Belfast remained adamant about serving her fellow maids.

"Thank you all for patiently waiting. I would like to congratulate and thank you for the wonderful work at tonight's party. You were all amazing and I would not have wanted a better team than you fine ladies at this table tonight." Belfast spoke as she slowly set down the trays of food before each of her maid staff.

"Glasgow, Sheffield, Newcastle, thank you for your help during the service. Now let us, as the Union girls would say, dig in. The Queen herself praised this 'Tikka Masala' so much she had ordered it to be a staple on the weekly dinner menu. The foreign spices do give it such a delectable smell for which I can't wait to partake in as well." she said as she took her seat.

"Hey Bel, dinnae y'think yer overworking yerself?" one of the maids had spoken up. She had long black hair tied into twin tails at the base of her neck. Her darling blue eyes fixated on Belfast before picking up her fork and knife.

"Don't worry about me Glasgow, I readily accepted the position of head maid as you all had chosen and I am more than glad to show I am deserving of the title." Belfast spoke as she unfurled her napkin onto her lap.

"Glassy 'eer still 'as a point. Y'areet ahrye? Ye'l end up deed 'fer y'even get a chance to be alive." the other dark-haired maid had spoken up as well, a forked piece of chicken halfway to her mouth. The other maid looked like Glasgow, the only difference being her maid crown was black as compared to Glasgow's white. She waved around the fork as she spoke again. "Look at ye, full o' life and all. Gon' turn ye'self to ket fer y'get anything deen."

Sheffield cleared her throat loudly. "Newcastle, Glasgow, just because there are no guests to attend to does not mean we can drop our demeanour as maids and devolve into blabbering baboons."

Newcastle just looked at Sheffield flatly before piercing another piece of chicken and putting it in her mouth. Glasgow blushed a little at having her accent called out.

"Now now Sheffield, we are off duty and we're allowed to be ourselves too once in a while." Belfast spoke as she forked some pasta. "'en oy tenk i's a good then' to le' lose once in e while. Noy, le's dig in 'fore te food ge's coyld."

The maids all looked at their leader with varying expressions. Sheffield was wide eyed. Glasgow had her jaw visibly dropping. Newcastle...Newcastle was...

"Haha, noo da's de best attempt oy'v 'erd of a Nordern Irish frem ye" Newcastle burst out laughing, holding her stomach with one hand and pointing at Belfast with the other.

"Newcastle" Sheffield looked pointedly as she chastised her fellow maid, "what have we talked about pointing utensils at other people?"

"Aww get that stick out o' yer bum Sheffy, it's just us 'eer. 'sides, I 'aven't 'erd your accent in a loooooong while." Newcastle replied as she began to fork some pasta of her own.

"Just because we come from the same dock, doesn't mean we are alike in anyway." Sheffield huffed as she shot Newcastle a glare.

"Sheesh, you probably put in more effort just to not have fun than you do when working." Newcastle said sarcastically before turning to the head maid. "Hey Bel, what's on our agenda tomorrow?"

"Well, her majesty was talking about giving us some rest and having fun so I took her up on the offer. Ladies, let's have a picnic tomorrow." Belfast spoke as she wiped her lips with a napkin.

The Town-class shipgirls, once again, looked at their leader with surprise. Belfast, THE Belfast, wanting to have a picnic. They began to wonder how the other maids at Portsmouth would react upon hearing about this turn of events.

Sheffield was the first to speak up. "Belfast, I suggest you lie down and rest after this. You may have truly overworked yourself this time" concern clearly plastered on the usually stoic maid's face.

Belfast just giggled at the response. "I just wish to rest as well, with my sisters." A pang of guilt struck her as the word left her lips, but she soldiered on. "It's been a while since we've sat down on the grass as the wind blows through our hairs. I do wish to talk more about other things besides our maidly duties, and what's wrong in having a little fun along the way" she said as she stood up and walked to the serving cart, pulling out a jug of whisky from beneath the covered sides.

Glasgow beamed at the head maid. "Ah'm in. Ah'm no aboot to pass off a good sesh and see one o' ye whitey up."

"Wey aye, we'll see who forst turns inne a paraletic. I bet is gonna be prim and proper Stiffy over here, ne'er even joined me, the lass" Newcastle pointed to the platinum blonde maid as she grinned at her fellow maids.

"I will take that as a challenge. But are you sure about this Belfast?" Sheffield softly spoke, the confidence wavering between her words.

"Quite certain. But before we have our picnic, we'll go on a little trek first, outside of the port."

The three other maids collectively looked at each other as none of them have ever gone out of the port since it was not a necessity. The confused trio didn't know whether to be excited for the impromptu field trip, or to be wary of their ever-surprising sister.

"Once again, ladies, thank you for everything you've done. I do cherish your company very much so." Belfast spoke as she tucked the whisky away underneath the cart once more and pulled out a bottle of what seemed to be red wine.

"Noy pony ep en well 'av a few loyt ones ferst. Oy 'erd it go'ys well wi' t'is dish."

It seemed the Town-class sisters were just going to be peppered with surprises for the rest of the night.

Belfast neatly folder her uniform and put it into the laundry hamper before getting into the bath room in her personal quarters. She looked at her reflection in the mirror for a few moments, her usual smiling visage slowly crumbling into a tired and weary look. An indifferent look now adorned her face as her lilac eyes seemed to fade into a dull grey hue. She sighed deeply as she closed her eyes and turned towards the bath tub. Giving herself a once over and taking into view her immaculately pale skin, she ran a hand up her back, feeling the only blemish of her perfect body. A grim reminder of what war can do.

_"…lucky…alive…"_

A voice hovered around her, speaking words which send pangs of pain to her heart every time. It was not the words and their implications that hurt. It was the voices and who they belonged to.

She shuddered before stepping into the bath and slowly immersing herself, fully taking in the warmth of the water. Sitting up in the tub while cradling her legs close to her chest did little to shield her from the thoughts which were now invading her mind. Every second which passed only made her feel worse, the warmth of her bath doing little to stop her from shivering.

_-:" ...lp…i…hi…hilfe…": -_

She bowed her head and held her knees even closer, the shivering from her nightly routine of crying herself in the bath caused ripples on the surface of the water to form.

_"…"_

Belfast gasped as she felt multiple hands crawl across her skin; the sensation, not entirely terrifying, but nonetheless grim. She choked back her tears as she tried to relax.

She just sat there in the water, like how her once majestic ship floated on the docks, lucky to have survived the end of the war. And she thought to herself,

_'Am I really lucky?'_


	3. Chapter 2: Realizations

_"__What does it mean to be human? Is it the species? Is it the capability of complex thought? Is it the metaphysical existence of a soul? If it looks human but was not created from human reproduction and birth, is it still human? A puppet, maybe? Or just a doll? Does anyone even know what it means to be so?"_

_Questions. Words and sentences floating about in an empty, white space. A multitude of voices all speaking at once, all asking the same thought._

_A figure walked through the empty space. A woman. Bare and naked amongst the nothingness. No ground to tread. No ocean to fall into. But there she was, taking step after step towards the unknown._

_-What does it mean to be human?-_

_The figure turned its head towards the voice. Letters and symbols all forming to spell out the question._

_"__To be human? I cannot answer" and onward she went._

_-What is a soul?-_

_"__A soul? I cannot answer" and onward she went._

_-What is life?-_

_The figure stopped. Human? Soul? Life? What were these questions being directed to her? She could not answer for she did not know. She did not know for she did not have these. She knew she was not human. She may have had the form of one. The real humans may have designated her as the female of the species. She may have acted like one, but she never felt like she was human._

_She was created for a sole purpose, and that purpose was to spread destruction wherever she went. To intimidate, to destroy, to be used. To obey._

_-What is a family?-_

_"__I cannot answer."_

_She was a doll. But dolls could not move. They sat on their little shelves, collecting dust and waiting for humans to appreciate the form of the doll._

_No, she thought to herself._

_She was a puppet. Created to be controlled. Humans pulling her strings to make her move. That was her true form. She was a human's puppet, meant to serve and be ordered. _

_Puppets didn't have families._

_She didn't have a family._

_She was not a proper living being._

_-*Is that why you've forgotten about me?*-_

_A beat._

_The voices all disappeared, except for the one who asked the last question. It was smooth as silk; worry deeply embedded in its tone. Feminine, yes, a lady's voice. It was very familiar but also seemed very distant._

_-*Was I not your family?*-_

_Another beat._

_The figure turned its head around frantically. Searching for the source of the voice._

_**-*Even after I called you sister?*-**_

_She felt her knees buckle underneath her; a weight forming on her shoulders as it drove her down to whatever surface she had been standing on. The figure knelt with both knees firmly planted beneath her. Her hands shot up to the sides of her head, searching for her ears as she tried to block out the voice._

_-*We were born of the same set of cubes. Does that not make us family?*-_

_Her lips opened as if to answer but no sound came out. A hollow breath made its way through and that was all she could muster. Her chest, the area of a human's anatomy where their heart existed, started to throb immensely. A pounding feeling welling from her inner body. It drove her mad. It was not painful in the physical sense, but she sensed the pain elsewhere and she could not explain._

Belfast was shaken awake by a scream; but she didn't scramble to her feet nor look for who had uttered the sound. She had already known it was her who had wailed in the middle of the night. She was already sitting up when she came to, her night dress slipping by her shoulders, attempting to completely slide off and only held up by her breasts.

She was not worried in the slightest. The thought of someone peeking at her while she was asleep never crossed her mind. The sailors out and about the port knew to respect her and were sometimes more afraid of her than courteous with their approach towards the head maid.

She brought a hand up to her face, as if to rub away the small vestibules of sleep still remaining on her lids. As she did so, fingers were wet by the small drops of fresh tears, still lingering on the edges of her eyes.

"Just another nightmare" she thought to herself.

Belfast brought both her hands up to her cheeks, and proceeded to give herself a slap from both palms.

"Well, at least I know I'm fully awake now."

***BANG BANG BANG***

"Oh no" she whispered to herself.

"BEL! ARE Y'AW O'RAYT IN 'ERE!?" a voice called through her door amidst the loud knocking.

She thought to answer back but regained her composure. A head maid must always keep her bearings straight; that was a rule she had etched into her existence.

Belfast swung her legs to the side of the bed all the while fixing her sleepwear as not to give thoughts to the person behind her door. She shakily stood up on both legs as she strode towards the doorway. She opened the door and was greeted by the concerned face of one of very groggy looking Newcastle who was in her nightgown but had drawn up her battle rigging.

"Hello Newcastle" Belfast greeted her, almost croaking between the words. She didn't realize her throat was parched, or that it hurt at all.

"BEL! I 'erd you screamin' from doon te' hall. Y'aw right there?" Newcastle responded, as she attempted to barge into her sister's room. "Wussit a sea boy? A looner? Who wussit?"

Belfast was at a loss for words. She didn't particularly think she was loud enough to catch anyone's attention. All the more so since her room was on the farthest part of the building away from the common passage way and a floor below the other maids. She tried to answer, but had to clear her throat from how rough it was feeling.

"Ehrm, I'm okay Newcastle. There was no person who was in the room, or peeking through my window." She assured.

Newcastle looked befuddled for a moment; the grogginess in her eyes almost clearing up and making way for a concerned look instead. "Are ye shoor eh?" She asked just to be safe.

Belfast, for all she had trained herself to do, smiled at her fellow Town-class cruiser.

"Yes. I was just…startled by something."

Newcastle withdrew her rigging and as the motes of light faded away, she straightened her stance to meet the silver haired maid at full height. Belfast's lilac eyes, as beautiful as they were under any circumstance, could not keep themselves still. She sighed deeply.

Then, she wrapped her sister in a tight embrace.

The head maid was shocked by the gesture and did not know, immediately, how to respond. Should she return the hug? Should she pull away from it? Maybe pat Newcastle's head? She was dumbfounded. That is, until Newcastle spoke.

"Bel, I aven't 'erd ye scream like that since you fought te not have 'em scrap yer ship back in '39." The brunette said as she continued to keep her sister in her arms. "Tha's the soond of my sister in pain."

Belfast was rendered speechless almost immediately as she fought to keep her composure. The memory Newcastle had jogged played in the back of her mind. She knew of the moment, she remembered the painful and agonizing wail she let out that day. It was what made Minister Churchill give his firm decision of not letting her and her ship be scrapped. It was also the first time she came to respect humankind after her and her ship's initial creation.

But what shook her the most was the word Newcastle just used.

_Sister._

She looked down on the top of Newcastle's head. The brown-haired cruiser burrowing her face into her bosom. Her hands wrapped around the other Town-class cruiser's waist as she felt her start to move.

_*sob*_

Belfast's heart sank the moment she heard it. Then Newcastle's body started to hitch in time with the other sobs she had started to let out. Her chest, still supporting the brunette's face and head had started to grow damp through her night gown. Tears started to form on the edges of her eyes too; but she had to remain strong willed.

Then, from the corner of her vision, she saw them.

Sheffield and Glasgow were running down from the stairs leading to the upper floors. Both of them still in their pajamas and night wear but with their battle rigging drawn and ready for combat.

"What's the situation? Where's the enemy? Tch, I can't believe we've been infiltrated." Sheffield said through grit teeth. The platinum blonde's hair did not sport her usual braided buns but instead had her short but gorgeous locks let down, a look not a lot of people, or shipgirls, have seen. It was quite obvious she was rushing as soon as she had heard Belfast scream.

"What's ap'nin' 'ere?" Glasgow was next to speak. Just like Sheffield, her hair was not arranged with the usual ponytail but was instead just a mess in its entirety. She must have been busy in the middle of accruing the bed head in her sleep when she was woken up. Both of the other maids were pretty much as sharp as they could be for someone who had been caught off guard.

Belfast's breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to say something but found no words coming out. She simply did not know what to say.

A tear fell from her eye and rolled off her cheek.

The two who had recently joined the shipgirls who were locked in an embrace audibly gasped at the sight.

"Bel, what's wrong? This isn't like you at all. Are you alright?" Glasgow asked.

"…sister" was the only word Belfast could let pass from her lips as the tears burst forth, no longer as a drop, but now as a river streaming down her face.

"Sister? Are you talking about us?" Glasgow questioned, panic growing on her face as she scampered to think of what to do to calm down the weeping head maid.

Sheffield, for a lack of a better word, was just stood still in shock as she saw for the first time in her existence, the strong and steadfast Belfast, shed a tear.

"mrph mmh mmrph mrr mrrmrrr" Newcastle mumbled into Belfast's chest.

"What was that now Newcastle?" Glasgow asked for the brunette maid to clarify herself.

Newcastle tore herself from where she buried her face into Belfast's chest, gasped deeply for air, thought about saying something, then returned her face into her sister's bosom.

"mrph amphrrmphrr in mrph" she mumbled once again.

Sheffield, shaking herself from her stupor, proceeded to remove the elder Town-class cruiser from where she planted herself.

"Speak clearly, it's not helping us help Bel if you're enjoying yourself too much" the platinum blonde maid said with her usual dead pan expression painted on her face.

Newcastle whimpered like a scolded kitten before righting herself properly and patting down a few crumpled parts of her night gown. She wiped the few remaining droplets of tears from her eyes as before facing the other two.

Belfast remained unmoving for a short moment before she brought a hand up to her cheek and attempted to wipe away the liquid on her face to no effect as fresh tears kept streaming down from her eyes.

"Belfast." Newcastle then spoke up to get the head maid's attention.

No response.

Glasgow panicked and started waving her hands around. Sheffield attempted to grab a hold of Belfast's arm but withdrew her hand quickly, unsure of how to proceed afterwards. Newcastle just sighed deeply.

_*hic*_

"But I'm not-"

_*hic*_

"-I'm not your-"

_*hic*_

"-not your sister"

The three stumped maids all looked towards Belfast as her hands tried to stop her tears from flowing. A pained expression on her face as her lips twisted into a grimace of pain and sadness. Then, her knees gave way and she crumpled to the floor in a sobbing heap.

Newcastle, being the eldest among the four, immediately knew what to do as she knelt down close to Belfast and brought the white haired beauty in for an embrace.

"There, there, Bel. We are your sisters, no need to worry about that" the brunette softly said in an attempt to calm down the sobbing shipgirl.

Glasgow and Sheffield could only look on as the sullen moment then turned awry as Belfast scampered away from Newcastle's embrace until her back hit a wall.

She looked like a frightened puppy backed into a corner as her hands frantically against her eyes.

"I'm not… I'm not your… your sister" Belfast choked out in between her heavy sobbing. Her face was contorted as the dam blocking her river of emotions slowly broke.

"What are you talking about Bel, we're all Town-class here. We're all sisters and shipgirls in arms too" Glasgow said as she tried to approach the hysterical maid.

That was the current that broke down the mighty dam which held back all of the emotions Belfast had chosen to keep hidden.

"NO! I'M NOT YOUR SISTER! I'M NOT EVEN HUMAN. WE'RE ALL NOT HUMAN. HOW CAN WE BE SISTERS?!" Belfast yelled as her sobbing broke down into even heavier cries of anguish.

At that moment, the gears clicked into place in Sheffield's mind.

"This is about Edinburgh, isn't it?" the platinum blonde shipgirl asked without any emotion.

Belfast whirled around to face Sheffield. Her face held mixed emotions; somewhere between maddening anger and pure suffering.

"So what if it is? Edinburgh's been gone for years now. A lot of them have been gone for years. What does it matter?" the white haired beauty barked out as her hands started to comb through her hair and grip whatever strands she could reach tightly.

The three other maids could only turn around and face each other as they looked for anything they could do to calm down Belfast. They were still in slight shock; this was the most emotion any of them have seen Belfast express.

Newcastle sighed deeply as she fiddled with her nose bridge with a hand. She may have been the eldest among the four ladies but even she did not know what to do. Sure, there were a lot of emotional moments during the war but those were mostly due to the high of battle or the pain of defeat, never the grief of loss. They did lose sailors on their decks, even officers and fellow shipgirls were lost. But none had the time to mourn.

Then it all made sense to her. It had been a few months since the end of the war. There hadn't been much to keep themselves busy with so they dedicated their time to serving as maids.

But as the most active amongst the surviving Town-class cruisers, Belfast was possibly the one who needed even more things to do to keep her mind drifting into the darker reaches of grief.

Belfast had begun to show signs of calming down as her labored breathing had become steadier. She was still in a seated fetal position and her grip on her hair had not loosened, but she was beginning to calm down. Newcastle took this opportunity to kneel in front of their youngest.

"Bel" she called out to the buxom shipgirl. Belfast tilted her head a bit to face Newcastle.

"Snap oot of it you daft lass" the eldest cruiser said as she brought both of her hands to slap Belfast's cheeks.

This action shocked Belfast as she slowly let go of her hair. She stared back at Newcastle whose eyes were burning a sort of fire she had only seen during dire situations.

"Tell me Bel. You are a shipgirl, correct?" Newcastle asked with a stern, motherly tone.

Belfast took a few seconds to think. She lowered her arms and hands to the side and slowly nodded.

"Okay. Do you feel your wisdom cube resonate deep inside you?"

Again, Belfast nodded.

"Good" Newcastle continued. "Do you realize that you are experiencing emotion?"

This question caught Belfast off guard, and so did the next few seconds as Newcastle lowered her hands from Belfast's cheeks. Then, Newcastle wrapped Belfast up in a soft, tender embrace and cradled the white haired buxom's head on her shoulder.

"Belfast. You already know when humans designed the wisdom cubes that the thought and concept of emotion was not included as not to have those factor in during battles. But do you not have feelings even as a shipgirl?" the eldest surviving Town-class cruiser said softly as she held their youngest in her arms.

Glasgow and Sheffield were quite perplexed by the sight, as well as the question.

It was general knowledge that machines of war had no need for emotion as it would hinder the battle capabilities of anything that had to teeter between pity, sympathy, or any emotion in the middle of war. Shipgirls were not spared from this concept and thus the wisdom cubes did not impart any sort of emotion towards the first generations of shipgirls.

But as these bio-mechanical beings were surrounded by the emotional bipeds who created them, they too would soon enough develop human like qualities of their own.

The shipgirls did not have the same concepts as humans did. Souls, spirits, religion, heaven, hell, they were all foreign concepts. They started off as puppets who were given life. They only did what they were told to do and when to do it. But this did not take into account the wisdom part of the aforementioned wisdom cubes.

The humans created an ever evolving piece of technology and as the shipgirls, which were born from said technology, continued their existence, they also continued to gain knowledge and intellect. And soon enough, they were as close to humans as they could get.

And not just in though, but also with the concepts they began to integrate among themselves. They started referring to those who were built in the same class as family, a biological concept meant for animals and humans. They started to partake in the joys of human existence such as hobbies and meals and many more. Shipgirls were no longer puppets to the sailors who they served with, and more importantly towards the governments which once controlled them as mere weapons.

Shipgirls became more girl than ship and they evolved as they continued to grow mentally even if their physical bodies had halted its own growth.

Belfast could not hold it in anymore. She tried to struggle in the midst of Newcastle's tight grasp on her. But she stopped trying, and just accepted the truth. She was now an emotional, thinking, living being. She may not have been human, but that did not mean she did not have a family.

Glasgow knelt down and started to shed a tear as she joined Newcastle in embracing Belfast. And Sheffield, ever stoic Sheffy, also knelt on the opposite side and emulated her sister in wrapping her arms around their youngest.

"Bel, we're here, we always are and we always will be even when we're not." Glasgow said as she tried to stop herself from full on crying.

"Glassy, that almost didn't make sense. But that's why you're so adorable" Newcastle giggled as her voice wavered, also threatening to start sobbing loudly.

"Will… you two…be quiet and stop…ruining the moment." Sheffield surprised everyone by being the first to break emotionally. The two darker haired Town class cruisers could no longer hold it in as well.

But the first to start sobbing was the one in the middle, their youngest sister. Belfast had brought her hands to her eyes as she started audibly sobbing as glistening streams of tears fell from her eyes faster than her hands could rub away.

And there, on a crumpled heap on the floor of the dormitories, the four Town sisters which occupied the Scapa Flow naval port cried together as a collective flotilla.

_-*"Does time heal scars?"*-_

_The white clad figure spoke to her as she stood in the midst of an open sea. She opened her mouth to respond._

_"__No. But it does help create new memories so we can learn from the scars."_

_-*"Are you truly creating new memories? Or do you just forget the old ones?"*-_

_She sat on the surface of the water and gestured towards the figure, beckoning it to come near and take a seat beside her._

_"__I don't know. But the scars in my cubes tell me I will not forget anything from the past until the day I cease to exist."_

_The figure floated towards her and towered over her seated form. It flashed a bloody, toothy grin in contrast to its immaculately white body._

_-*"Then what do you plan to do?"*-_

_She did not hesitate to give an answer but before she did, she stood up to match the height of the figure. Her gloved hands reached around the white nothingness before her and attempted to grasp it within her embrace, but she passed right through it. She grimaced a bit at the loss of balance of passing through an ethereal being but did not lose any of her composure._

_"__If I could bring you back, I would. If I could bring any of you back, I would. But most of all, If I could spend more time with you all in more peaceful situations, I would."_

_She turned around to face the figure once more, tears slowly forming at the corner of her eyes._

_"__After all, what's the fun in not being together as sisters, Edinburgh?"_

_The figure's grin disappeared as It floated towards her, passing right through her and disappearing into the void beyond the everlasting sea._

_Belfast stood alone once again, but no longer filled with sadness and despair, but with hope and determination for what could possibly be done._

_She smiled one more time before she heard it._

_**-*RING RING RING*-**_

And she opened her eyes to the morning light of a new day. The day she would be spending with her beloved sisters on a picnic. Or was it only going to be a picnic.

Belfast looked to the pair of wisdom cubes on the nightstand beside her bed and whispered.

"Maybe we'll see each other again Edi, maybe."


End file.
